Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Lotus the beautiful dog

Lotus died today.

Lotus was Ian's parent's little shih-tzu. I met her about a month after I started seeing Ian when she was about 6 years old. She was still puppy-like and clearly a dominant dog even though she was just small. She loved to play with her toys and her ball (especially her ball!). She was loved and pampered by Ian's parents and lived a very comfortable life.

When Ian's dad had appointments, I often got to look after Lotus. I loved it! After everyone left, I would sing a little song about how she and I were a family together for the day and she seemed to like it. We'd play sometimes, or else she would sit on my lap. She also knew that I was good for almost unlimited cookies :)

Lately she hadn't been feeling well; her behaviour had changed a bit and over the last few days she'd stopped eating. She wasn't able to walk very well, either, and it was clear that the end was coming soon. Today was the day :(

I loved Lotus so very much and I miss her terribly. I wouldn't have thought that I would cry and grieve so hard for a dog that wasn't mine, but that's what's happening. I thought of her as part of my family (or rather I think Lotus thought of me as part of her family :) I can barely describe how much my heart aches for all of us who loved Lotus and for Lotus herself. I've cried an ocean of tears already and I think there's an ocean more waiting to be released.

Goodbye, little Lotus. I hope you are happy and content wherever you are.

1 comment:

It's funny how you describe Lotus thinking of you as part of her family. That made me smile. I have often felt that Lotus was never 100% happy to see me. Because I took up Geoff's time when he should have been playing with her. Or, maybe it was all those times I tried to steal her ball. I have a photo that was taken just before Geoff moved to BC in 2000. The two of us are standing on the stairs and I'm holding her ball and she's not even in the photo! And I think, especially recently, because if I was over that meant the important people were leaving.

Many times she gave me that look that made me feel guilty for not being a Harrower and I think she knew that would make me give up the cookie stash! I'm only surprised she never learned to open the fridge herself. Maybe because she knew that the cookie jar was on a high shelf.

I take comfort in knowing that, if she hasn't been reincarnated as a puppy in someone else's house, she's chasing the squirrels in doggy heaven.

I won't ever be able to ring the doorbell without thinking of her and missing her bark.